


Gage-ing The Situation

by SmolDargon



Series: Adventures in Anatomy [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, anatomical discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:36:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29982960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolDargon/pseuds/SmolDargon
Summary: The human has a dangerous job. She tries to explain to her monster companions that not all head injuries are fatal.
Series: Adventures in Anatomy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205429
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Gage-ing The Situation

**Author's Note:**

> TW and Spoiler!  
> This story involves mention of Phineas Gage, who sustained a nasty head injury in the 1800s. There are descriptions of gore, disfiguring injury, pus, and mention of vomiting. There is not anything sexual here, but the human does use the R-word in a euphemism.

The human was a valuable source of information, indeed. Just being around her brought questions to mind regarding the differences between human and monster physiology. But injuries were always difficult. Things that would incapacitate or kill a monster were either superficial or straightforward in their treatment for a human.

One time, she was thrown from a horse she was training, causing her to slide headfirst into a water trough. The sound alone had the skeletons convinced they had just witnessed the death of their new friend. However, by the time Papyrus had vaulted the fence and run over to her, she had started to sit up, groaning and rubbing her head. Apparently, that amount of force wasn't deadly. She had shrugged it off, mounted up again, and finished the training session, despite the skeletons' protests. At some point, Sans had discreetly called Alphys in and requested an examination, just to be safe. The human insisted she was fine, grumbling about the cost of proper medical treatment and reiterating for the umpteenth time that her body was to be donated to science if it did turn out to be a fatal injury. "Funerals are just a way to posthumously rape your wallet", she had stated. Alphys insisted on scanning her anyway, and discovered that she had something called a "concussion".

The human was put on strict bed rest and some painkillers. And of course, she complained of boredom the whole time she was bedridden. The brothers took turns sitting with her and doing their best to help her feel better about the situation.

"I'm telling you, I would have been fine. It's just a small concussion. No bleeding, no major squishing of my frontal lobe, nothing. I could be making progress on that colt, maybe even getting a sidepass out of him. But _noooooo_ , you just _had_ to bring a doctor into it."

"something like that would have killed one of us, you can't blame us for worrying."

She sighed, putting a hand to the ice pack on her head.

"I know…. I shouldn't be so angry, I'm just frustrated. I was finally making some headway with the little turd. Now, it will take a month or longer to get us back up to speed."

"IT'S A BETTER OUTCOME THAN HAVING YOU DROP DEAD BECAUSE WE DIDN'T KNOW SOMETHING WAS WRONG!"

She looked up at the monsters beside her. Papyrus was apparently accustomed to this sort of behavior from Undyne, as he seemed to have basically ignored the anger in her words. Sans looked about ready to fall asleep. He had been reading to her in the hopes that it would help calm her down. It would seem he had done little but put himself to sleep.

"I've had worse, and so have other humans… It's amazing what we can tolerate."

"you've had worse… than a massive blunt force injury directly to your skull?", grumbled a skeptical-sounding Sans.

"Personally, yes. I've also been stomped, thrown into a T-post--oh, the _bruises_ the side of it left were awesome--slammed into a stable door… I wouldn't say I'm indestructible, can you imagine the hubris I'd get from that? But I am certainly very difficult to hurt. And plenty of other people have had far worse injuries, some even crippled for life."

Papyrus shifted uncomfortably at her bedside, "I'M ALMOST AFRAID TO ASK WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE WORSE THAN ALMOST HAVING YOUR HEAD BASHED IN."

She grinned widely, motioning for Papyrus to sit down. It would seem she had a story to tell.

"Ever heard of Phineas Gage?"

"can't say that I have", Sans yawned. He didn't look as though he would stay awake through the story. Papyrus just shook his head in the negative.

"So…back when we were trying to put a railroad across the continent, there were crews blasting rocks out of the way with dynamite."

"THAT SOUNDS INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS!"

"Oh, it was. See, to properly break down these boulders, they put gunpowder in a hole they'd drilled in it, then used a rod to tamp clay or some other material over the powder to help keep the powder from exploding back onto the workers before putting a fuse to it and detonating it from a safe distance. Now, these tamping rods were made of iron. Metal. Phineas Gage was working with one of these rods. He got distracted by something behind him, and half turned to speak to someone. As he did, his rod sparked on the rocks and ignited the powder. Unfortunately for him, they hadn't put any sand over the powder. Even more unfortunately, by turning, he'd put his head right into line with the blast hole."

She paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, but also to chuckle at the growing horror on the brothers' faces. Even Sans now looked wide awake.

"The rod blew through his head, going through his upper jaw, behind his left eye, through his brain, and clean out the top of his skull. It landed a fair distance away, covered in gore."  
Sans groaned in obvious discomfort, Papyrus outright shrieked.

Chuckling softly, the human continued, "He didn't die. His rod was smooth and tapered to a point at one end. Not the traditional shape for tamping rods. Any other shape and it might have killed him. He convulsed for a bit, but was able to speak after a few minutes, walked with just a little assistance to a cart, and sat upright for the whole three-quarter mile ride back to town. The local doctor was actually able to remove bone fragments and debris from the wounds and bandage him up."

"I AM NOT CERTAIN I BELIEVE THIS TALE, HUMAN! ARE YOU CERTAIN THIS IS NOT SOME FANTASY COOKED UP BY YOUR INJURED BRAIN?"

The two of them eyed her uncertainly. She requested her phone--it had been taken from her to limit screen time while she was recovering--and pulled up an account from the doctor who treated Phineas Gage, which Sans read aloud to them.

"i first noticed the wound upon the head before i alighted from my carriage, the pulsations of the brain being very distinct. the top of the head appeared somewhat like an inverted funnel, as if some wedge-shaped body had passed from below upward. mr. gage, during the time i was examining the wound, was relating the manner in which he was injured to the bystanders. i did not believe mr. gage's statement at that time, but thought he was deceived. mr. gage persisted in saying that the bar went through his head. mr. g got up and vomited; the effort of vomiting pressed out about half a teacupful of the brain through the exit hole at the top of the skull, which fell upon the floor."

Papyrus grabbed the trash can from the human's bedside and retched harshly, unaccustomed to such graphic depictions of injury. Sans eyed the can also, but held his stomach, bravely pressing onward.

"you will excuse me for remarking here, that the picture presented was, to one unaccustomed to military surgery, truly terrific; but the patient bore his sufferings with the most heroic firmness. he recognized me at once, and said he hoped he was not much hurt. he seemed to be perfectly conscious, but was getting exhausted from the hemorrhage. his person, and the bed on which he was laid, were literally one gore of blood."

"FOR THE LOVE OF ASGORE, STOP READING!", Papyrus coughed between heaves. Sans, a look of horror on his face, put the human's phone away, seemingly trying to wish away the mental image such an account had left.

"The account is one-hundred percent accurate, my guys. Gage suffered pretty badly for about a month, battling delirium, semi-consciousness, infection of the injury site-- _really_ bad infection, when it was cut open, he discharged some eight ounces of pus--and some other stuff too. He might have died there if the doctor in question hadn't had experience with cerebral abscess."

The brothers gagged again at the mention of pus, but otherwise listened in awed silence. Glancing at each other, it was clear they had reached the same conclusion: humans were unholy terrors and nothing but the sheer breaking of their will could kill them.

"so, uh…how long did he live after all that?"

"Twelve years."

Papyrus gaped at the human.

"YOU'RE JOKING."

"Nope. Twelve years. He had some pretty drastic changes to his cognition and personality, but was able to do a good half day's worth of farm work. He seemed, physically at least, totally healed within a few years. Not bad for the 1800s and a brain injury. He actually held down a job as a long-distance coach driver for a while, but the exposure and exhaustion caused decline in his health. He started having seizures in about the eleventh year after his injury, which got progressively worse over the last few months of his life. His actual cause of death, I believe, was status epilepticus. Seen that in a couple of dogs during my time as a vet tech…a sad way to go, for sure."

The mood turned somber as the human reflected silently on her time in the animal hospital. She seemed to look back on it fondly some days and with revulsion on others. The brothers could only wonder at her experiences, as she outright refused to discuss the matter, except in cases where she dropped tidbits in passing.

After a few minutes of silence, Papyrus finally stood, excusing himself to empty the waste bin. Sans left shortly after; it seemed the human needed some space to consider the events of her past. The brothers popped in only briefly to deliver dinner and plenty of water.

She seemed better by bedtime. As was her custom, she pretended the conversation hadn't ended on such a low note. It was easier to just pick up the lighthearted banter where they had left off rather than address the issue at hand. Papyrus had made a passing comment about it, hoping she might actually talk more, but she just bulldozed past it, derailing the conversation into something about how humans were just three pounds of fat piloting a meat suit. He had to agree, humans were curious creatures.


End file.
